


Believe me, the deadwoods haunt

by Brokade



Series: The deadwood series [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Bisexual Male Character, Horror, M/M, Murder Mystery, Mystery, Supernatural Elements, cryptid
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:48:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24363832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brokade/pseuds/Brokade
Summary: I had an itch I think , I don't really know I'm not sure. All I know is that it burrowed under my skin and would not abate till I got in my dingy little car, pulled my kid from school  and drove several miles till I got to this shitty little town.
Relationships: Cory/Duke
Series: The deadwood series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1759069





	1. Entry #1

It still hasn't hit me the monumental thing that I've done. That is, upend my whole life, quit my job, pull my child from school and drive several miles to a small town full of people I do not even know. We don't even have a place to stay the town doesn't even have a hotel, just a small bed and breakfast with an almost stereotypical jovial old lady running it. My son had barely complained on the weird drive here it's not that I wasn't grateful it was that I was uncomfortable. His eerie silence bothered me it had almost seemed like he expected it. Regardless, I don't think children are supposed to behave that way. 

In nearly all the books I've read about children sudden unexpected change should affect them. Even if they didn't respond negatively there had to be some kind of reaction. My son had only responded with an odd mix apathy and understanding. I'd add it to the list of my parenting failures since Sasha died, but the list was already too long. It was an apathy that I birthed and bloomed in him. He was too much like me. I'd look down at my son sometimes and catch my own face staring back his soft bulbous nose, his dark skin and long lashes all reminiscent of mine. It made me feel vulnerable and in many ways it made me uncomfortable too. I think my son can sometimes feel like a collection of my discomfort, bound in the body of a tiny boy. He was my worries , my apathy, my bad decisions, my face reflected back at me.

My urge to protect him is too strong sometimes I have to look away. His kindness and his love for animals were all from his mother though . I know I'm cruel sometimes but I think most people are, his mother was never cruel but she was not really like most people. A part of me envies it, to love so freely and not worry about being loved back, to give and not expect. I don't think my son was only apathetic about it he was being kind about it too. His decision not to make a fuss when his father had suddenly changed the course of his life in a matter of days with no prior notice was a kindness. Encompassing the act as pure apathy was a fundamental misunderstanding of Adrian.No doubt apathy played a role but there were so many questions he could ask and he'd chosen not to. He'd been obedient , borderline servile when I'd instructed him in packing his things.

I can see him now laying across the bed his eyes closed almost meditative. His wild locs fanning his face like a woolly halo. I weaved my hands through his hair and he opened his eyes he looked up and smiled at softly at me. There's so much I could still write in this book, but everything feels hyperreal at the moment. All the bad decisions I've made in the past few days are jumping at me itching for attention but I'm choosing to ignore it.

A funny thing happened though, one that stands out in the surreal landscape of the last few days . The jovial old lady at the reception came up to our room knocking frantically at three am this morning, when I opened the door she seemed out of breathe. It looked like she'd been jogging her sweat stained clothes betrayed a level of effort that I didn't realise a woman her age could still muster. The unhinged look in her eyes made me move to the side when she asked to enter the room for 'surprise inspections' a concept that sounded fake and illegal.

A small niggling thought that I might be experiencing some sort of bizarre racist fever dream crossed my mind. But no it was no fever dream, it was real, she was really there at three am to search our room for drugs? When she got inside she barely touched our things like I'd expected, instead she was looking frantically into every corner and crevice of the room. It seemed as if she was looking for something desperately. She crouched under the beds, she looked into the ceilings, she pulled the wrinkled brown couch forward and looked behind it, she moved the beds and the wardrobes with alarming strength, she looked at everything except our belongings. Which, if she was looking for drugs you'd think that that would be the first place she'd look, but she just...didn't. It was an odd detail so I kept it in mind.

Adrian had woken up at this point , he sat so still on the bed that he could've been a statue and I stood similarly transfixed at the door watching this wild woman ransack every corner of our room like a being possessed. It would be funny if it didn't feel so surreal. Calling the cops was obviously out of the question even though at that point in the whole ridiculous affair I knew that her actions where definitely illegal. Apart from the fact that the cops where more likely to believe her, there was something in her eyes that made me believe that it was far more to the story than I could understand at that moment. When she was done, she looked around the room one more time and with an mechanised efficiency she put everything back in place like nothing had even happened.

It was immensely jarring , she then proceeded to take a tissue out of her bra and wiped her face with it. It was comical bizarre. She looked relieved , her eyes had lost that crazy edge and the muscles of her face relaxed. She almost resembled the jovial old woman that had given us the keys to the room the day before. I don't know what came over me, maybe it was the fact that she'd woken up my son in the middle of the night after a stressful day, or the fact that she had no regard for my privacy that did it but I was feeling poisonous so I asked in the most steely sarcastic tone I could manage

"find any drugs?"

"What???"

She'd replied like I'd said something incomprehensibly daft. What gave her the right to act like I was stupid? She'd come into my room , unannounced at three am in the morning and I was the idiot here ? At that point I was too tired to coax the poison so I just let it go. I told her good night and closed the door behind her, it wasn't the first time something like this had happened to me and it probably wouldn't be the last continuously fighting didn't change anyone but you.


	2. Entry #2

We have been in the room for three days now. Neither I nor my son have gone out for anything other than food. It is becoming tiring. I thought that at this point I would have figured out what my purpose in this town is, but as the days seem to go by it seems like I won't be finding out anytime soon. The incident with the B&B owner keeps buzzing in my mind. I had half a mind to ask her about it prod her about it, Make her feel some sort of regret for the oddness of the whole encounter.

When I went downstairs to order breakfast I thought she would at least acknowledge what happened the night before even if she didn't apologise. she didn't it and it bothered me, it bothered me a lot. Surely I couldn't be the only one thinking about it? but the funny thing is , she just acts like nothing happened. I wanted to shake her, make her admit the weirdness of the night before but everything about her body language seemed stoic unresponsive, she'd never admit anything .I don't know why I expected some sort of explanation, or some sort of apology. It's not like racists apologise unless they're exposed in some grandiose manner on Twitter or something equally flamboyant.

The events have been swirling and swirling in the crevices of my consciousness till it amalgamated into a warped psychedelic mess. The memory is so distorted because of how much I've been dissecting it in my mind , I'm not sure how much of that experience is pure and unadulterated and what is tainted by my bitterness and past experience. Was I inserting something that didn't exist into the narrative? Reading too much into it?

Nevertheless, there is a certain amount of not rightness about the whole thing that prevents me from dismissing the whole thing completely.I've never been one back down I've also never been one to take things at face value. You need that ability if you're going to succeed in the world as treacherous and cold as ours. It occurrs to me that I could just ask her what happened, but something inside me knew that I wouldn't be getting any answers if I went that route . I will be keeping my eye out.

There were more important things to focus on now though. The first thing I have to find is a new job. In fact it is the most important thing apart from finding a school to enroll Adrian. I don't think the school issue would be too difficult, in small towns like this there was only one of each kind of school. Adrian did not have the best time in his old school he was shy, quiet and kind certainly not like other boys. His quietness got people to ignore him, his shyness isolated him and his kindness got people to walk all over him. It hurts that a lot of people didn't see the goodness in my son.There is a burning desire in me to make the world pay for that, for trying to make the best qualities about his son the worst ones. I make my own efforts to reward his kindness and sensitivity for others even if the world won't I don't think I have choice. Kindness is necessary in times where abject cruelty is pervasive and acceptable. The kindness in Sasha's eyes is what drove me towards her, moreover it is the only piece of her that she left in this world after she died.

Getting the job is certainly something that won't be difficult with my qualifications I don't think it should be too hard. I've seen other black people in town, at the very least I won't be the only black person. Maybe I could even find a community ? Who am I kidding I'm antisocial as hell. Another shitty trait my son inherited from me. Its comical how last just last week I couldn't even dream that I'll be in an entirely new town, with a different life ahead of me. I could not even imagine that my life would have taken a complete detour in the manner of days but here I am making plans looking for jobs as if this situation isn't batshit insane. I am still waiting for this sudden lightning bolt bolt realisation to hit me. The realisation that I'd fucked up royally. I was expecting at least five mental breakdowns and seven separate existential events but so far nothing of that sort has happened. My mind has fully contorted around this sudden unexpected change. 

I am adapting a little bit too quickly and a small minute part of me is uncomfortable with the idea. Staying indoors is not sustainable anymore however, I need to get up and do something. I came here for a reason didn't I? The reason isn't one I'm aware of but something tells me I'll find out soon. 

So far there are two job openings that I feel qualified for and both paid well enough to suit my needs for now. There was one at the local hospital it was an accounts management job and I read business and accounting in university, nothing could be more fitting I guess. I can't imagine it is anything tedious. I come from the intense high maintenance world of new york and I do not think that anything in a small town hospital is enough to raise my blood pressure even mildly.The second position is at a bookstore.

I can't tell which is more exciting, managing accounts at a bookstore or managing accounts at a hospital in a small town, so many diverse choices!Whatever the case it is clear that I can no longer be sitting home doing nothing. It is also pertinent that I start looking for more permanent accommodation. I wondered if I could enter into some sort of arrangement where I could stay in this B&B. Yeah, Probably not if the events of that night were anything to go by , the owner and I will clash frequently.

**To do list :**

\- get accommodation

\- enroll my son in school

\- apply for jobs

The idea of getting up and taking responsibility isn't not looking too attractive right now however I would like not to continue living on my meagre savings. I'm not a lazy man and I don't know why I've had such an incredible reluctance to get anything done since I've got here. It feels like there's an insurmountable task to do in my future and my mind keeps going 'nope not gonna even deal with right now' which is ridiculous because none of my tasks seem particularly herculean. Even when I was depressed fresh of the of the death of my wife, I found a way to work and care for my now downsized family. It it's not really about the cvs , enrolling Adrian in a new school , or getting a new job is it. it feels like something is lurking in the corners of my consciousness, trying desperately to slow the inevitable advent of chaos.


End file.
